


Borrowed Time

by inquisitor_tohru



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Manipulative Sheev Palpatine, POV First Person, POV Second Person, Star Wars: The Last Jedi Throne Room Scene, The Force, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:07:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26137858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitor_tohru/pseuds/inquisitor_tohru
Summary: She is beautifully, wonderfully defiant as she tells youno.
Relationships: Sheev Palpatine & Snoke
Collections: write to my heart





	Borrowed Time

He will never be the same again, the boy you called a child with a mask, still kneeling upon the polished floor of your throne room. You watch him turn away from the girl, wrapped in crackling, purple lightning as you raise a hand, and look upon you in all your stolen glory. A silent plea. He always was so easy to manipulate, and you always were so good at exploiting feelings of abandonment and inadequacy. You ignore the awful, sickly jitters in the Force, because everything is going according to plan - _your_ plan. It will all be over soon.

You bring the girl close to inspect her, but your attentions are still focused on your apprentice. He baptised himself Kylo Ren, at your own not-so-subtle suggestion, in the blood of a knight, but you see he still has the mark of Ben Solo upon him, like a stain upon his soul. Thus far he may have performed admirably in the role you shaped for him, but there had always been a certain risk in taking on an apprentice who was a creature of light and dark. His fate - and your own - is _not_ certain.

You think perhaps he is a flawed vessel, an amalgamation of the worst and weakest aspects of the light and dark. But only time will tell, and your time here is borrowed.

“And now you will give me Skywalker,” you tell the girl, looking straight into her hazel eyes. “Then I will kill you with the cruelest stroke.”

She is beautifully, wonderfully defiant as she tells you _no._

Aware that time is slipping away, you throw her across the room in an attempt to break down the last of her meagre defenses and begin rifling through her thoughts. Your concentration barely drowns out her screams as you delve into the jumble of sounds and scents, touches and tastes, but you've done this more times than you cared to count, and she will give you _everything._ Your apprentice says nothing, and does nothing but bow his head, awaiting your instruction.

When you have the knowledge you seek, you discard her, unconcerned by the sickening crunch of bones as she hits the ground. The last hope for the Jedi lies crumpled before gold slippered feet, grasping blindly for her lightsaber. Gnarled fingers twist, altering the trajectory and adding insult to injury as you smack her in the back of the head with her own weapon. You smile as it returns to its rightful place upon the arm of your throne. Her hatred is palpable and in another galaxy, you think she might have made a fine apprentice, even if she is only human.

But then, so are you, and your time has run out. After the scuffle, you see your apprentice turn his lightsaber to strike true. And now, the foolish child, he ignites it with the intent to _kill his true enemy._ Little does he realise that _you_ , Sheev, are already gone, and I am alone. My body is decrepit, but it is once again my own, if only for a moment, and in that split second before it expires, I look at the girl and I _hope._


End file.
